


Well That Was Unexpected

by MyLittleCornerOfSherlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221 format, BAMF John, BAMF Sherlock, Blow Jobs, M/M, Post Reichenbach, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLittleCornerOfSherlock/pseuds/MyLittleCornerOfSherlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of unexpected events take place the night Sherlock comes back from the dead.   Each chapter is written in a 221 format, except for the epilogue (because I needed more than 221 words for the reason this work is rated M).</p><p>Complete!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steel Grey Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beltainefaerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beltainefaerie/gifts).



> For beltainefaerie who won this series in the DashCon Auction. Her prize was five 221 ficlets prompted by colors and/or flavors. My Muse went a bit of a different route with her prompts this time and the sequential work you see before you was born. She also asked for at least one sexy time, but I couldn't fit it into the 221s, hence the epilogue. The epilogue is not 221 words, and I'm sure you'll appreciate why.
> 
> This work is unbetaed.

John shivered, kneeling on the floor of the abandoned warehouse. His arms were bound behind his back. His head bowed slightly, he watched the blonde man pacing slowly in front of him. Sebastian Moran walked over to him and pressed the barrel of the gun he was holding against John’s temple. John sighed and sagged at the press of the grey steel against his skin. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt the cold kiss of the gun.

“Giving up so easily, Dr. Watson? I must say that’s disappointing. I was hoping you’d put up a fight. Now, I almost feel like I’m putting a dog out of it’s misery.” He paused, looking down his arm, “But, I guess that’s really what I’m doing isn’t it? The crippled dog without his master. Would he be at all impressed with his faithful companion? Poor, sad, broken, little dog. Hardly worth anything. What would he say if he could see you now?” 

John’s body shook. Moran mistook it for rage and smiled. He was shocked when the broken laugh came from John. “He’d say turn around and ask him yourself, you bastard.” John looked up at him defiantly.

The gunshot rang out and Moran crumpled to the floor. “I’d say the only dog in the room is you,” Sherlock snarled at the body.


	2. Verdigris Stare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death doesn't suit you, Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention yesterday, that each color or flavor prompt is listed in the title of the chapter. Enjoy!

Sherlock rushed over to John yanking at his bonds before pulling John to his feet. His verdigris eyes darted over John’s body taking everything in. Sherlock’s intense gaze never wavered, checking for signs of injury or pain. John stood, rubbing his wrists, waiting for the inevitable questions.

“You knew.” A simple statement. “How did you know? When did you realize I wasn’t dead?” 

“You told me. You told me it was a trick, although it did take some time for my mind to piece it all together. I’ve always believed in you, Sherlock. If you needed me to act like I’d lost you, like my world was over, there must have been a reason. So I did. You’ve never done anything without a reason. And if I’m not mistaken,” John nodded at Moran’s body, “That’s a reason right there. I knew if he had me, you wouldn’t be far behind.”

Sherlock smiled grimly, “Well he was one reason. I can fill you in later. Let’s get out of here so I can get back to the world of the living.”

“Yeah, death doesn’t suit you,” John chuckled, his indigo eyes lighting up for the first time in over a year. 

Sherlock’s own verdant eyes twinkled, “Stop laughing, John. It’s a crime scene.”

And with that, they both broke down into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are always welcome.


	3. Crimson Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What just happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone for the continued feed back!

They debated over who to call first to clean up the mess. John had told neither Lestrade nor Mycroft about his realization. In the end, their minds were made up for them when they stepped outside the door. Waiting out front was a rescue detail and a single black car. 

Mycroft was astonished when he saw John walking out of the building, apparently unharmed. He had seen the footage where the man identified as Moran had abducted John. He’d rallied his forces as quickly as it had come to his attention. He’d failed his brother, he wouldn’t fail John. When he saw the second figure step out of the building Mycroft went from shock to seeing red in a matter of seconds. Losing his composure, he charged his younger brother.

Mycroft’s fist connected with Sherlock’s mouth, hard enough to split lips and knuckles. John managed to yank the two men apart before more blows fell. Crimson drops fell from the wounds as the two men glared at each other.

“You want to punch someone, Mycroft? Punch me,” John growled. “I knew he was alive. I’ve known for awhile. Sherlock didn’t tell you, so I didn’t either. If you want to beat some shit into someone, try me. But if you hit the man I love again, you won’t walk away uninjured.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've said in a couple of replies to comments, this is giving me a chance to explore some things I've had tumbling around in my brain. So, here is a "What if Mycroft didn't know?" moment for you, where he can't quite keep that calm composure.


	4. Platinum Qualities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pt, 78, little silver, John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "qualities" Sherlock lists off are actual properties of Platinum and the way it is viewed by the global market today.

The three men stood in silence, the situation diffused, absorbing John’s words. John looked defiantly between the two. He knew what he’d said in the heat of the moment. It was out and couldn’t be taken back. And he didn’t give a damn. 

Sherlock stared at John. He had known how deep his own feelings went. But John reciprocating them was unexpected. To him, John was more precious than gold. John was Platinum in its purest form.

John was harder than iron, determined, strong, unmovable, and unwavering in his faith in Sherlock. John’s view and opinion of Sherlock had not been tarnished, not even during the mudslinging and aftermath of his fall. John was more important to him than anyone could have ever imagined, more valuable than gold. 

He needed to get John alone, let John know how he felt. Sherlock exhaled sharply, suddenly aware he’d been holding his breath. 

Two different sets of blue eyes turned on him. Mycroft’s were questioning, checking to see if he was okay with John’s revelation. John’s were tender, but there was a confidence in them that told Sherlock John already knew how he felt.

“Mycroft,” John turned to him, “Do you mind making sure the mess inside is cleaned up? I’d like to get us home to Baker Street now.” Mycroft smiled and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's head canon/observation here: I noticed in the series Sherlock would often exhale upon realizing a key point of his deduction process. Hence his sudden exhalation here. I don't think he realizes he does it.  
> Also, why wouldn't Sherlock think of John tenderly in scientific terms? :)


	5. Vanilla Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome home, Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final 221 chapter for this story. Tomorrow will be the smutty epilogue where this story earns its rating. If you've been waiting patiently all week for it, thank you. Tomorrow you get your reward.

When they got back to the flat, Mycroft dropped them off promising to talk to them later in the week. They avoided Mrs. Hudson, since it was so late.

Even though they understood how the other felt, both Sherlock and John knew they needed a bit of space before proceeding with the conversation that needed to be had. Sherlock wandered around the flat while John made tea. Not much had changed. Billy still had his place on the mantle, his violin waited in its case for him in his chair, even the hook that held his coat and scarf was bare, as if it were waiting for him to come home. Sherlock smiled. Perhaps the flat WAS waiting for the other half of its “people” to come home. Sentiment. It had actually served him well while he was gone. And now, the feeling welcomed him home. He took off his coat and scarf, placing them on the waiting hook.

He walked in, took a seat at the table and John handed him his mug. Sniffing, Sherlock made a face. Apparently something had changed in the flat. “Really, John? Vanilla tea?”

John chuckled, “Your’s is still Earl Grey. Vanilla is a known anti-depressant. I developed a fondness for it.” His face took on a tender but serious expression. “Now then, let’s talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your feedback. It's always has been and will continue to be appreciated.


	6. Epilogue- Expecting the Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One Year Later....Epilogue of Smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. The epilogue. This is where the work earns it's M rating. Thank you all for your comments, feedback, and support. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I did writing it.

_One year later_

 

A lot can happen in one year.  A man can come back from the dead and be forgiven for what he put his friends and family through.  Scotland Yard and the press can eat humble pie.  A consulting detective and former army doctor turned blogger can pick up where they left off.  And the vanilla cream icing on the cake, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson can pledge themselves to each other for the remainder of their days.  

 

Exactly one year after Sherlock came back from the dead for John, they exchanged rings in front of their friends and family at the Holmes Estate.  It had been a simple affair, with only a few in attendance.  The ordeal really had been more a spectacle for the guests than the two men involved, although Sherlock had to admit when he saw John dressed -sharply in his steel grey tux there were some perks to this whole ceremony thing.  Once the last guest left, Sherlock let out an audible sigh of relief.  They were alone at last, Mycroft having given stern words to all staff of the estate to clear out until they heard otherwise.  Sherlock silently thanked his older brother.

 

John walked into their room, undoing his bowtie and closed the door.  “I’m glad---” He’d barely opened his mouth when his new husband pounced on him, shoving him against the door.  Sherlock deftly undid the buttons of John’s shirt as their mouths crashed together.  

 

“Well, that was unexpected,” John chuckled as Sherlock yanked off both his and John’s jackets, before peeling back John’s shirt.

 

“Hardly,” Sherlock rumbled in John’s ear, undoing the button and zipper of John’s trousers, “You know how much I enjoy seeing you dressed up.” He slipped his hand under the waistband of John’s pants, teasing the other man’s already growing erection.  “What is unexpected, is that I waited this long.”

 

John’s chuckle was low, “That’s what I meant, Sherlock.  I half expected you to pull me into one of the linen closets before the night was out.”  

 

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time you’re in a tux.” Sherlock’s mouth covered John’s again, sucking at his lip.  Sherlock’s long fingers wrapped around John’s shaft, stroking him in short quick flicks.  John moaned into his mouth, “Are we even going to make it to the bed?”

 

“No time for that,” Sherlock smiled wickedly down at his partner, as he picked up the pace.

 

“We’ve got all week,” John gasped, grabbing Sherlock’s hips, pulling him closer.

 

“True, then the answer to your question is, ‘No’ not this time,” Sherlock leaned in, his eyes twinkling mischievously.  John grinned.  Oh this was going to be fun.

 

Sherlock worked his way down John’s chest, kissing and licking his way over the expanse of skin.  John hissed as Sherlock nibbled lightly at each of his nipples before continuing on his way down, finally kneeling in front of John’s open trousers.  He mouthed John through the fabric, wet heat against the sensitive skin and the slightly rough texture of his pants causing an interesting sort of friction.  Sherlock eased the fabric over John’s hips and down his legs, freeing his hard cock.  John locked eyes with him and grabbed Sherlock’s curls encouraging his next move.

 

Sherlock grabbed John’s hips, teasing the head, wrapped his lips around it and flicked the underside with his tongue.  John fought against closing his eyes at the exquisite feeling.  He stared into the verdigris pools of Sherlock’s eyes as the man took his cock inch by inch into his luxurious mouth.  

 

“Fuck!”  John groaned as Sherlock deep throated him, and closed his eyes, his head leaning back against the door.  He held onto Sherlock’s head, following the slow rhythm Sherlock set.  For all the initial desperation, Sherlock knew how to draw a good thing out.  He sucked upwards slowly, a soft graze of teeth, and a hot slick, slide back down.  Sherlock could and had been known to do this for hours.  It was one of his favorite things to do to John, tease him to the edge of orgasm and then stop, not allowing John to climax, edging him back down from the precipice, then dive back in with vigor and intensity, repeating the process until John was begging for release.

 

John felt his knees growing weak, “Sh-Sherlock...I..I can’t stand much longer.  Please.”  Sherlock changed his method, one hand wrapping around John’s shaft stroking him, the other held John’s hips firmly in place.  Sherlock sucked harder, tongue cupping the underside of John’s shaft, the sounds Sherlock’s mouth made as his pace increased were indecent.  John cried out as his orgasm vibrated through his body.  Sherlock swallowed as John sank to the floor.

 

“Come here,” John’s voice was husky.  John wrapped his arm around Sherlock’s shoulder as they both leaned against each other, panting.  Sherlock reached up, and clasped John’s hand, their platinum rings clinked against each other.  He nodded at the bed, decadently made in crimson satin sheets, “When you get your knees back under you, let’s try and make it to the bed.”

  
John laughed, breathlessly, “You wanker, you’re the reason we didn’t make it there in the first place.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always welcome.


End file.
